


Knight of Wands

by DreamerInSilico



Series: The Names We're Given [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamerInSilico/pseuds/DreamerInSilico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarot card prompt (hence the name).  Isabela spends time with Catrin Hawke after All That Remains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knight of Wands

Catrin Hawke stared at the fire from her cross-legged perch on the edge of the bed.

She had been staring for hours.

At some point, there had been a disturbance in the air that smelled of spices and whiskey and  _woman_ , and Isabela had appeared at her side. The pirate queen had had little to say, but somehow seemed to be able to comprehend, if not exactly relate to Catrin’s current state of mind.  She had simply sat next to the despondent woman, fingers curling around Catrin’s hip, more affectionate than teasing, said a few words – the mage couldn’t recall what they had been, but on some level realized that she may not have been meant to – and remained.

Eventually Isabela had curled up like a lioness at Catrin’s side, mane of dark hair falling about her shoulders and even across her face as she wrapped around the mage’s body, and still, Catrin had stared into the fire.

What was she, if she could not protect those nearest her?

But the lioness beside her needed no protection – seemed to deny the very concept of it, in fact, by her mere existence. All flashing eyes and flashing blades and the sardonic curve of full lips; dark skin; the wicked caprice of a strong sea breeze. The feeling of freedom, personified.

Catrin was still afraid to tell her that she loved her, afraid that a lioness needed love in the same way she needed protection – which was to say, not at all.

Still, that was not the thought that claimed her attention that night. No, that night, she was melancholy and grateful. The last thing she remembered was the feel of wavy black hair against her fingertips before an exhausted sleep finally claimed her.

…

The sun peeking through heavy drapes woke Isabela, as it always did, for she was a seafarer at heart, and no amount of time stranded in Kirkwall had changed that. She rose with the sun and the morning tide – and missed the second of those things terribly, every day that she remained.

Still, there were sweeter things than high tide, and one of them… one of them lay still sleeping before her.

She still couldn’t tell Hawke that.

No, all she could do was what she had done: shown her concern with her presence, her care with the warmth of her body against the other woman’s. That was all that was needed, truly, wasn’t it?

The swollen redness of Catrin’s eyes, even while they were closed, reminded Isabela of why she had come, why they had fallen asleep beside one another but, for once, still clothed. Why she felt so very out of her element. Why she had to find a way to pretend she wasn’t.   
  
“Wake up, sweet thing,” she whispered, voice husky against the mage’s ear, her hand warm against Catrin’s hip. “I’ve got a sailboat for the day, and I promised to show you what to do with sturdy canvas and a good wind, now didn’t I? You won’t want to miss it.”  
  
She did not, strictly speaking, have the time scheduled with her acquaintance’s boat quite yet, but that wouldn’t matter for her purposes. She could talk him into it faster than her lover could realize that was what was happening.


End file.
